Last night I dreamed...

About another dang mouse.  Why do I dream about mice so much?  I’m beginning to see how Mickey Mouse got pulled into existence.   For myself I have to say that it would be nice if I could actually dream about a friendly mouse.  But no.  Mine are always evil.  

I’m sure you’re wondering what happened.  Then again, you’re probably not.  Regardless, picture this:  a mouse ran across my kitchen floor.  It ran back across my kitchen floor.  I stopped what I was doing to watch the trashcan because that’s where the mouse had gone.

It shot back out and I freaked, dropping to the ground in a paralyzing fear.  (I am not that afraid of mice so I haven’t a clue why my dream self is.)  It ran across my chest.  It ran down my arm.  It beat feet over my stomach.  It scurried down my leg. 

It bit my toe.

Now, since I had on a pair of socks it didn’t actually get my toe.  What it did do was get its teeth snagged in my sock.  Ya know, like a puppy will do?

So there I lay with this mouse, which was actually growling and yanking at my sock.  I wasn’t about to pry the nasty thing’s mouth off me because that would require touching it.  I wasn’t about to pull my sock off because that would mean I’d have to get close to touching this ferocious beast.

While all this was going on my oldest daughter stood in the corner of the room screaming, “Get it off!  Get it off!”

Oh yeah, that was annoying.  So I yelled at her, “Would you shut up?”

She didn’t hear me. 

Usually when I get stuck in hard situations I yell for my husband.  I don’t know why because he always takes his sweet time getting to me.  It was no different this go around.  Actually, by the time he did mosey into the kitchen the mouse yanked itself loose and scurried off between the fridge and a cabinet.

Last night I dreamed...

I was dating an ogre.  Cross my heart I haven’t even thought about Shrek in over a year.  Besides mine was a pukey orange color and I’m convinced he glowed. He was a zombie ogre too.

So here’s what happened:

During this special time of year, which happened to have spring like weather, these zombie type ogres could pass through worlds.   They ate people.  Truly.  Just ate’em up.  I let one in my house and in a far away type of reflection was shocked to find out that he was my boyfriend.  We cuddled and made out on the couch. 

 Yes, it’s okay.  Let your mind boggle.

So then the others outside got crazy—door banging, window banging, yelling crazy.  My orange glow-in-the-dark zombie ogre hugged me tightly and said, “I have to go.  I can’t protect you if I’m in here.”

I let him go.  It was a tearful goodbye because I really loved him. 

*Sniff. Sniff.  Snot.*

We (my kids and I) did all that we could to keep our door shut, each of us pushing and shoving against it.  I don’t remember what I had to get from the kitchen, but I told Roo not to let any of them inside.  Then I went up the stairs.

She let them in.  Just turned the knob and opened the door.

I ran back to the stairway and my mind camera did a close-up of her face.  Clear as day, she gave me her “What?” look.  The one she gives me before she says, “What? I didn’t know…blah, blah, blah, was gonna happen.”

Then I woke up.

Here are my thoughts on this odd dream:

I’m extremely disappointed that after 14 years of marriage I finally dreamed of some other guy and the dream makers gave me a glow-in-the-dark zombie ogre!

I could make this into a book.  Surely.  I mean if sparkly vamps can get a girl famous, then why can’t glowy ogres?  I know it was true love.  I’m sure of it.

Last night I dreamed...                                           

I was inside asleep because I’d written all night.  Some loud banging on the door woke me. When I answered I found all my neighbors, some cops, a few people who I guess were from code enforcement and a construction company.  (I’m thinking I might have watched way too many of those Verizon commercials lately.)

They were all mad at me.  My house (which wasn’t my real house) was coming apart and I wasn’t fixing it as it happened.  I mean they were really mad, like yelling and stamping their feet and shaking their fists.  I kept trying to explain that I couldn’t have done anything because I’d been asleep, plus some of the things that needed done I simply wasn’t strong enough to do.

Then a tree fell on someone’s car.  It squashed the car flat and managed to shove it into my car.  Everybody got madder at me.  I kept saying, “I’m not God.  I can’t control this.  I can’t fix it!”

The crowd parted and Io and behold, I had a stream running through my yard—with a bridge!  Instinctively I knew something wasn’t right with my stream so I followed the path the crowd made for me.  At some point or another a car had hit the bridge and slid into the water.  As you can imagine I was shaky and dizzy and not breathing too well.  Since my dreams have a special director who has this magic way of slowing the cameras of my mind, I got to slowly set my hands against the bridge railing and slowly inch my head over the rail.

It was full of dead people.  Dozens and dozens.  Little people and big people, girls and guys, just floating around, not breathing. 

Now while I was trying to figure out how I’d caused this to happen, since by then I was convinced everything WAS my fault, a floating guy rolled over and sat up.

I screamed.  Then I shouted, “He’s not dead!  Quick, somebody get over here and help me get him out!”

A guy appeared at my side from who knows where.  (It’s a dream.  It never makes sense)   He said, “They want to be there.  It’s important for their therapy.”

Needless to say, I was very put off that they wanted to use my stream or river or creek, whatever you choose to call it for their mental therapy?  It was also really creepy that their therapy involved playing a drowning victim. 

I said all this to the magically appearing guy and everyone got mad at me again.  The last thing I remember doing before I woke up was crying for my husband because I couldn’t fix anything that was wrong and I didn’t know where he was.

Last night I dreamed...

 that I seemed to have trouble killing.  There was this very creepy spider and all I had was a baby sandal.  Every time I'd slap at the leggy thing, I'd miss.  Oh, then it jumped on me and I was out of my body watching myself roll over in the bed.  It crawled under my thigh, but I was kinda awake and thought I wouldn't worry over it since it was a dream spider anyway.  I lay there for a while waiting to feel the tickle of its legs, or a bite. Eventually, my curiosity got the best of me.  I flipped on my lamp and checked under my covers.  No spider.  Which is a good thing since I'd  never seen such a spider before.

Last night I dreamed...

I was involved in a murder.  *Gasp*  I know.  I think we tied the guy up with rubber chickens.  The reason I say this is because we bought live chickens and boiled them then they were stretchy rubber chickens.

Now, as far as my dream went, all of this was back story.  Have you ever done that?  Dreamed a dream that was apparently a sequel to a past dream?  Except you don't remember dreaming the first dream, but in your sequel you know everything that happened in the first dream?  Yeah, it was creepy and very disturbing.  I mean, I helped murder someone and from the vibes I was getting in my current dream the murder was committed because of a slight to me.

So here's what happened:  I got a phone call from a woman who we had apparently rented a storage unit from.  She was looking for my brother.  I told her he was out of town and then she asked for my husband.  She said that she'd gotten the test results and she knew my brother had had chickens in the back of his truck.

Man, this really worried me and rightly so, since I knew very well we used those chickens to make rubber chickens to tie a guy up.  I told her I'd have to talk to my husband.  I think I killed the guy because I had a flash back of myself stabbing him.  My brother and my husband were involved in this too.  I was totally stressed that because of the stupid chicken feathers they'd somehow scraped out of my brother's truck bed that we were caught.  The woman from the storage unit said that she knew my brother was going to say the chickens were for his kids.  I then thought that was a brilliant excuse and planned to tell my brother to use it, but I still figured we were caught.  Next came me dreaming about dreaming about life in a dungeon type cell, with wet, drippy walls, tons of rats, and smelly hay.

When I woke up it took a few minutes to realize it had all been a dream and whoa, talk about a sigh of relief.

Over the last week or so I've watched several slasher movies and then watched season one of The Tudors again.  Before I went to bed last night, I watched the first episode of season two and it's the episode where they boil the guy alive.  I think all these movies and shows collided into one very eventful night for me.  I hope they're finished now.  I don't think I'm up for a repeat.

Last night I dreamed...

my Thanksgiving Dinner was awful. No one would eat it. And the gravy? It was some kind of powder with a glass of milk or some white liquid that you had to mix together yourself at the table. I didn't dream of cooking anything I just dreamed of the pitiful looking dinner that no one would eat. And I kept overhearing everyone say that it wasn't very good, but then they'd smile at me and say it was. That's how I knew I must've cooked the poor meal.

Last night I dreamed...

about mice and rats.  This isn't so surprising.  It was an action packed dream so how about that!  I starred as my own hero and my husband never heard me crying for help.

I'm sure you've heard people say that the rat was big enough to be a dog.  I've never seen a rat in real life, but last night I battled one, in dream quality, so you know it was to the extreme of the saying. 

I was in my laundry room looking on a shelf for something.  From the corner of my eye, I caught a movement.  I turned to see a tiny little normal gray mouse scurry behind my dryer.  Behind it was a fluffy black guinea pig type thing.  I thought, "Gosh, that's a big, fluffy rat."

Then things just went all nightmare on me.  The fluffy black rat spun around and lunged at me.  Except it wasn't a doggone fluffy black rat anymore.  It was a huge Kujo with slobbers flying and a nasty, evil growl.

I screamed and back-skidded into the shelf behind me, conked my head, which hurt massively like expected for a dream.  I'm surprised blood didn't spurt in every direction.  One dream blink later, a hole seemed to have appeared in my wall.  I threw my arm out and somehow managed to knock Kujo rat through the hole.

But the drama didn't end there.  No such luck.  Now I suddenly had two holes in my wall, right next to each other.  A board appeared from nowhere beside me. Kujo rat came for me, teeth bared, and growl in scary mode.  I yelled, "Joe!" grabbed the board and slammed it against the first hole.  Some really squishy type mattress thing appeared to my left and I grabbed it up to cover the second hole.  Back to the wall, one foot on each hole cover, I shoved and yelled for my husband some more.

I imagine he was sleeping on the couch as usual.  He can sleep through anything when it comes to me.

Next thing I knew I stood over the couch staring at a dead baby mouse caught in one of our TV blankets.  (We're blanket people.  When it comes to movies and TV we all have to have our own blanket.)

And then my mom's dog that I'm dogsitting whined and woke me up.

Last night I dreamed...

my ears were infected with seed ticks.  Lots of them.  I also dreamed about my eight year old which involved fire, slugs, and other strange things.  The details to that dream are pretty much lost now.

Last night I dreamed...

a million dreams.

Dream One:
    I arrived at my dream wearing a white gown with a crown of some sort in gold circling my head.  I was standing there thinking, "My God, I've come straight from Avalon!"
    There were all these conversations around me about some guy who wanted to overthrow the castle we lived in.  Further investigation proved this castle actually held an entire town.  As I was still trying to figure out why my husband was wearing sandals and a toga, these tiny spaceships started appearing everywhere.  No one seemed to notice them, or if they did, no one commented.  Before these things (spaceships) landed, they opened up and turned into huge robotic men.
    I gripped hold of my husband's arm and pointed.  We were being invaded by Transformers?  (I don't have a clue where this was coming from.  I haven't even seen the movie.)
    Back to the dream:  These robot men had huge guns and they just started shooting everyone in sight.  We all ran for cover.  And cover had suddenly appeared by the way—in the form of broken concrete slabs everywhere.  So there I was squatting behind my slab, my husband beside me, and a guy was shot right before my eyes.  These guns didn't pepper anyone with little holes, they instead, blew huge holes out of people.
    And to further anger me, there were all these stupid people running everywhere instead of hiding behind the concrete slabs.  Of course, they all were shot.  
    Poof!  On to the next scene:
    We were running down these stone stairs and by the way everything was a marble or concrete color and very bright.  My husband said we had to get to the gingerbread castle next door.  (And this I know had to come from the Verla's write a story one line at a time.)
    The next thing I knew, we were thumping down wooden stairs with waterfalls on either side of us.  Actually, it was a miniature golf course.  Okay?  Um, sure.
    Once past that we were at the gingerbread castle that happened to also be a gift shop and the town's courthouse.  Now somewhere between the mini golf course and the castle, I'd acquired the knowledge that the man who ran the gift shop was the man who wanted to overthrow the town/castle.
    But I couldn't say this in front of him.  He might shoot me with one of those guns.
    So guess what happened?  Yep, my husband told him where we were all going to hide.  I looked up (for some reason we were outside on this craggy mountain now and not in the gift shop) and saw a huge spaceship in the sky.  No one seemed daunted by this; because the soldiers were going east and we were going west.  I kept thinking that everyone should really get upset because that huge spaceship could surely see us and would zap us.
    And next, I was poofed into a drippy cavern type setting.  And then I woke up.
    When I fell back to sleep:
    I appeared in the middle of a store.  And I was so very happy in this store, jumpy happy.  I had found a sweater I'd been looking for that would go perfect with one of my daughter 2's outfits.  (I really am searching for this sweater)
    Poof: I was in a bedroom done in dark paneling with dark blue curtains and blankets.  My brother was there and he gave me a bag.  I looked inside and found a blue shirt.  He said, "I bought you a blue one, cause blue looks good on you."  (Blue doesn’t look good on me, by the way)
    I said back, "Oh cool cause that's why I bought you a blue one too."
    Poof:  I was standing at the end of an aisle in a church.  Across from me was my husband and it appeared we were getting married again.  Thankfully, we were at the end of the ceremony.  He lifted my veil and kissed me.  Awww…  Then he picked me up and threw me down the aisle.
    I landed near the back pew in an aisle that had turned into a swimming pool while I was flying through the sky. I somehow got my swimming suit on during this time too.  So, understandably, I swam back up front where a girl hung onto the edge, a tiny little rubber bathtub plug in her hand.  I asked her why she was draining the pool.
    She pointed at a microwave mounted on the wall in front of us, and said, "The air-conditioner isn't working so I have to drain the water."
Someone asked, "Is it on F1?"
    And then we were in a dark trailer and the microwave was one of those kind that are mounted above the stove.  I started punching buttons and trying to get it to program to F1.  I finally did get it to something that had a F1 in the tiny writing and my husband's huge arm snaked over my shoulder.
    He held his hand over the hot air blowing out of the vent in the top of the microwave/air-conditioner and said, "I can tell you what’s wrong with it."  At this point, something normal happened.  I zoned out while he talked about wires and hydraulics and lifts and components.
    Then he said, "It's not F1 but C3 because F1 and D5 are the same thing, see?"  (Could this have something to do with that game Battleship I played all the time as a kid?)
    I nodded, he punched some buttons, and poof, the air-conditioner/microwave was fixed.
    And then, thank goodness, I woke up.